Synopsis: Lt. Cranford lives the life of a playboy sportsman until the outbreak of war when he joins the Royal Navy and is assigned to convoy protection duties. The convoy is a part of the vital supply chain that is all that is allowing Britain to fight off the Nazi threat. A German battleship targets the convoy protection ships and a deadly game of cat and mouse ensues.
Genre: Drama, War
Director(s): Pen Tennyson
Production: Ealing Studios
78 min

(Gulls screech)

All secure, sir.

All right, Number One.

- Not a bad trip, Commander.

- We did very well, sir.

Well, young fellows me lads,

you can count yourselves very lucky

to have helped bag a submarine

on your first trip.

All I remember about mine

is being confoundedly sick.

They were green about the gills

the first week out, sir.

- We used to called it midshipmanitis.

- Oh, we're over that now, sir.

Muster the prisoners

and send them ashore right away.

- Anything come in about leave, sir?

- Not yet.

I'm moving your things from the sea

cabin, sir. Will you be going ashore?

I don't know yet, Bates.

(Bell clangs)

- Gangway for the red watch.

- Any more for the Sky Lark?

- Pick up your monkeys and parrots.

- Get your shore-going out!

Driver, where's my car?

The old mud hook's down,

let's hope she stays there for a bit.

- Shut up that row!

- Get you!

# Home, home, sweet home,

there's no place like home #

- Home? You'll never see home.

- What are you talking about?

Pipe down, we're bound to get leave.

Here, let's ask the admiral.

Oi, come on, sailor, oi, wake up.

- What do you want?

- A little bit of wisdom.

- Are we going to get leave?

- Well, come on, out with it.

Shh, can't you see he's thinking?

Well, firstly,

we sink a blooming submarine,

that should mean leave.


we're due for boiler cleaning...

- Come on, come on!

- Hurry up!

Thirdly, we haven't had any

for a hell of a long time!

And fourthly, admiral, we have the case

of able seaman Edmunds,

who was married two hours

before he had to join his ship,

and hadn't the time nor the opportunity

to consummate the union.

- (All laugh)

- Nark it!

Here, hold your noses,

here comes the bootnecks. (Whistles)

Oi, where you going

with those pea-shooters?

We're mustering the Jerry prisoners

to go ashore.

(All laugh)

Grog-o, grog-o.

Here you are my lucky lads.

Stand back,

you'll all get served, gents.

Stand back

and let the dog see the rabbit!

Come on, one, two.

Come along, kamerads, four.

Come along, keep moving, keep moving.

Prisoners, march.

- Just a minute, corporal.

- Halt. What do you want, sailor?

Let's give the poor baskets

a tot of rum.

It'll be a long time

before they get any leave.

All communication with the prisoners

is strictly prohibited.

- Carry on, sailor.

- Go on, pop it in.

Here, Jerry, take a swig of this.

Go on, Nelson's blood.

Nein, das is verboten!

Stow it, Adolf, give the lads a chance.

Go on, it'll do you good.

- Good.

- Good! I should say it is.

- Grows hairs on your chest.

- (All laugh)


Yeah, you fellas made a mistake

letting those Nazis kid you.

You ought to join a real navy.

(All laugh)

(Cup smashes)

Heil Hitler!

Heil, my fanny, prisoners

and escort shun, quick march.

Party, halt.

All present and correct, sir.

Very good.

Where the devil's

that motorboat got to?

She hasn't left yet, sir.

(Gulls screech)

(Tyres squeal)

- Charles?

- Yes, ma'am?

- Take a walk, would you please.

- Certainly.

Steady, darling.

Oh, David,

it's all over your collar too.

Damn these stiff collars.


You know, after two years out

of the service, running my own show,

I'll find this "aye-aye, sir" business

pretty difficult.

Never mind,

you look lovely in your uniform.

Yes, absolutely divine!

Oh, David, you're going to make a bad

start, you're ten minutes overdue.

Never mind, dear,

Mr Chamberlain says it'll be a long war.

(Horn blasts)

I'm going to miss you, darling,

even though I know

you're an awful waste of time.

Is there a better way of wasting time,

my sweet?

I've loved every minute of it.

Goodbye, my dear,

look after yourself.

Goodbye, David.

- Be good.

- Aye-aye, sir.

- So long, my poppet.

- Goodbye.

Motorboat's just leaving, sir.


Stand by with your prisoners, corporal.

Party, shun.

Oh, there's old Bates, sir.

Will you excuse me for a moment?

- Yes, carry on.

- Thank you, sir.

I say, Bates,

is Captain Armitage going ashore?

I don't know, sir,

but I'm hoping if he goes, we go too.

Thanks, Bates.

- Wotcher, swain.

- What do you want?

- Is the oldie going ashore?

- How the hell do I know?

If anyone asks me that again,

I'll knock his blasted block off!

All right, all right!

Will you be going ashore, sir?

I don't know.

- There's no news about leave, sir?

- Nothing official yet.

Would you be going to town

if we did get leave, sir?

I expect so.

There something I'd like

to ask you, sir, if it isn't a liberty.

Anything you like, Bates. Lord knows,

we've known each other long enough!

Well, it's like this here, sir,

my old woman made me promise,

you see, like she being very keen

for you to stand for the first,

well, I said, "No, wait a bit, there's

bound to be another one soon."

What the devil

are you talking about, Bates?

Babies, sir.

What, at your time of life?

No, it's not exactly mine,

it's me daughter's.

It's a boy, and his father

being in the service,

we'd like you to stand godfather,

sort of start him off right.

- Why, I'd be delighted!

- Thank you, sir.

We was thinking of wetting his head

this leave.

I was wondering what to do with myself.

Suits me perfectly, any time you like.

By gum, my old girl'll be

as proud as punch.

- (Knock on door)

- Come.

- Lieutenant Cranford, sir.

- Who?

- Come aboard to join, sir.

- All right, Hawkins.

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Patrick Kirwan

Patrick Kirwan (1899–1984) was a British screenwriter. more…

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Submitted on August 05, 2018

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    "Convoy" STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 13 Apr. 2024. <>.

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